The Server's Chronicle: A Fantasy Of Faith

The week after the rosary incident passed in a blur of strange occurrences. The warmth that had surged through Louis at the church kept returning at unpredictable moments—when he touched a withered flower and found it blooming the next day, or when he helped steady an old man who nearly fell and saw the man's limp mysteriously lessen.

But the more Louis tried to rationalize it, the more questions piled up. The whispers about his newfound "gifts" spread through the parish, and though no one said it outright, there was a growing expectation around him. It was suffocating.

It was on a quiet evening, the sky painted with hues of lavender and orange, that the encounter happened. Louis had just finished packing up his music after practice and was locking the church doors when a shadow detached itself from the alley across the street.

"Louis Paulissen," a voice called out, smooth and measured.

Louis froze mid-step, his breath catching in his throat. The voice came from the shadows ahead, where a faint figure stood cloaked in darkness.

"Who's there?" Louis demanded, his voice firmer than he felt.

The figure stepped into the dim light of a streetlamp, revealing a tall man with a sharp, angular face and eyes that gleamed like polished onyx. He wore a suit that seemed too immaculate for someone standing on an empty street at this hour, the fabric shifting as if it didn't entirely belong in this world.

"I am Mathis," the man said, his tone formal. "A Servant of the Altar."

Louis frowned. "The Altar? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've been noticed, Louis," Mathis replied, his gaze steady and unblinking. "By powers far greater than you can comprehend. We've been watching you since the moment you were touched by the divine. Your actions—however unintentional—have not gone unnoticed."

Louis instinctively took a step back. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Mathis smirked, a sharp, knowing expression. "Oh, but you do. The child you healed, the peace you bring to others without realizing it. You've been marked, and the Altar Servers have taken interest. I'm here to determine if you are worthy."

"Worthy of what?" Louis asked, his voice rising. "I didn't ask for any of this!"

Mathis's expression didn't waver. "Few are given the choice. But now, you must decide whether to rise to the call or let the opportunity pass. The Altar Servers don't extend their hand lightly. Consider this your invitation—and your trial."

Before Louis could respond, the street around him shifted. The cobblestones dissolved, replaced by a smooth, featureless plane that stretched endlessly in all directions. The sky darkened, filled with swirling clouds that glowed faintly with an otherworldly light.

"What's happening?" Louis shouted, spinning around.

"This is your trial," Mathis said, his voice echoing unnaturally in the space. He gestured to three monolithic pillars that rose from the ground, each carved with intricate symbols glowing faintly in gold, silver, and obsidian.

"Three paths stand before you," Mathis explained. "Each represents a virtue necessary to walk this path: courage, wisdom, and faith. You must face one to proceed. Succeed, and you will understand what it means to serve. Fail, and you will return to your ordinary life—unchanged, but diminished."

Louis clenched his fists, his heart pounding. "What happens if I just walk away?"

Mathis tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing. "You'll lose more than the chance to fulfill your potential. Without guidance, the power you've been given will consume you. Chaos will follow you—and those you care about."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. Louis felt the warmth inside him stir, a quiet nudge that seemed to echo Mathis's warning.

He swallowed hard and looked at the pillars. The golden one shimmered the brightest, its glow steady and unwavering.

"Courage," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mathis nodded. "Then step forward and prove it."

As Louis approached the pillar, the symbols began to pulse, and a blinding light engulfed him. When the light faded, he found himself standing in a dense forest. The air was thick with mist, and the sound of rustling leaves surrounded him.

A deep growl broke through the silence, sending a shiver down Louis's spine.

"What now?" he muttered, his hands trembling as he scanned his surroundings.

From the shadows emerged a massive wolf-like creature, its eyes glowing crimson and its fangs bared. Its presence was overwhelming, its growl vibrating in Louis's chest.

The creature lunged, and Louis barely dodged, stumbling backward.

"Face your fear," Mathis's voice echoed, though his form was nowhere to be seen. "Courage is not the absence of fear, but the will to act in spite of it."

Louis scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding in his ears. The wolf circled him, its movements slow and deliberate.

"I'm not afraid of you!" Louis shouted, his voice shaking but growing steadier with each word.

The wolf paused, its crimson eyes locked on his.

"I don't know what's happening to me," Louis continued, "but I won't let it control me. If this is my trial, then so be it."

The wolf growled one last time before it began to dissolve, its form breaking apart like ash in the wind.

The forest melted away, and Louis found himself back in the featureless void. Mathis stood before him, his expression unreadable.

"Well done," Mathis said. "But this is only the beginning. The Altar Servers have taken notice, and your journey is far from over."

Before Louis could respond, the void faded, and he was back on the cobblestone street, the church bell ringing faintly in the distance.

...

Louis trudged down the cobblestone path, the faint light of streetlamps casting long shadows around him. His limbs felt like lead, and his head buzzed with unanswered questions.

"This isn't what I expected the trial to be," he muttered, dragging a hand through his messy hair. His expression was a mix of exhaustion and frustration. "And he just left me here. F—"

"Nah, nah, language, buddy," a familiar voice chimed in, smooth with that distinct mix of humor and warmth.

Louis stopped in his tracks, his shoulders sagging. "Oh, come on. Can't I have five minutes to wallow in peace?"

From the shadows near the path, Jesus stepped into the dim light, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his tunic. His sandals made no sound on the cobblestones, and his golden glow, subtle as ever, cast a calming presence around him.

"Five minutes of wallowing? That's generous," Jesus said, grinning. "I usually give people two tops before stepping in."

Louis shook his head with a groan. "Don't you have, I don't know, miracles to perform or something?"

"Multitasking, my friend." Jesus winked. "Besides, this is important. Can't let my favorite spark in the dark lose his glow, now can I?"

Louis snorted despite himself. "Favorite spark, huh? You've been hitting the divine wine again?"

"Ha! Good one," Jesus said, pointing at him. "But no. I'm here because you've been through the wringer, and you're owed a little clarity. And maybe a snack. You look like you haven't eaten since—what's it been—lunch?"

Louis gave him a flat look. "Seriously?"

Jesus snapped his fingers, and suddenly a loaf of freshly baked bread appeared in his hands. "I wasn't kidding about the snack."

"Of course," Louis muttered, reluctantly accepting the bread. "You know, one day, this whole casual miracle thing is going to give me a complex."

"Only if you overthink it." Jesus took a bite of the bread he'd manifested for himself, somehow looking both divine and entirely down-to-earth. "Now, let's talk about what just happened. The Altar trial? Big deal, by the way. Congrats on not getting eaten by the wolf."

"Yeah, great. Thanks for the heads-up about that," Louis said, rolling his eyes. "You could've warned me, you know."

"And rob you of the chance to prove yourself? Nah. Besides, you did great!" Jesus said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Courage is no joke, Louis. Facing your fears is harder than most people think, and you handled it."

Louis sighed, kicking at a loose cobblestone. "I didn't feel courageous. I felt terrified."

"Exactly." Jesus's tone softened, his eyes full of understanding. "Courage isn't about not feeling fear. It's about acting despite it. You stepped forward, even when everything in you wanted to run. That's courage, my friend. And it's why the Altar Servers are interested in you."

Louis chewed on a piece of bread, digesting both the food and the words. "So what happens now? Am I just some... divine errand boy?"

Jesus chuckled. "Not quite. You've been given a gift, Louis. A light that can guide others, heal what's broken, and protect what's sacred. But gifts come with responsibilities. That's what tonight's trial was about—showing you the first step."

"And the next step?"

"Ah, that's the fun part," Jesus said, grinning. "You'll figure it out as you go. But don't worry—you're not alone. You've got Mathis, the Altar Servers, and, well, me."

Louis raised an eyebrow. "You? The guy who pops in unannounced with bread?"

"Exactly." Jesus beamed. "I'm always just a prayer away. Or, you know, a cobblestone path. Depends on my schedule."

Despite himself, Louis laughed, the tension in his chest loosening. "You're impossible."

"Impossible? No. Improbable? Sure." Jesus stretched his arms above his head, looking at the darkening sky. "Now, go home, get some rest. Big things are coming your way, Louis. But don't worry—you've got this."

As Louis turned to continue his walk, he glanced back. Jesus was already gone, but the warm glow of his presence lingered, filling the air with a quiet reassurance.

For the first time that night, Louis felt a flicker of hope. Whatever came next, he knew he wasn't walking the path alone.

Louis watched the spot where Jesus had vanished, shaking his head. As he turned to leave, he muttered to himself, "Why was he in a tunic this time around? Some twisted fashion sense?"

"Oi!"

Louis froze mid-step, his head whipping around.

"I thought you were gone," he said, blinking into the empty space.

A voice, distinctly amused, echoed in the air. "I can hear you well enough."

Louis groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I thought you didn't use your divine senses for that."

"Tch! I make exceptions," Jesus's voice shot back with mock indignation. "Anyway, bye for now. I'll send you your reward soon."

Louis rolled his eyes, walking away with a smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Don't forget to wrap it this time."

The night felt lighter somehow, the lingering warmth of camaraderie and humor guiding him home.